


Chatter

by AuroraNova



Series: The Vadari Chronicles [16]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M, New Relationship, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 07:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20467115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraNova/pseuds/AuroraNova
Summary: “I’m in a relationship, actually.”The community finds out about Julian and Elim's romance. Gossip moves at its usual speed.





	Chatter

This time, Julian is resolved not to overcook his lamb chops.

He’s waiting in line at the meat dispenser, idly wondering why, if the industrial replicators can churn out dozens of lamb chops at a time, the meat can’t be cooked already. Yes, some people prefer their lamb more or less thoroughly cooked, but surely the replicators could produce two or three options. It can’t possibly be that difficult.

No matter how hard Kara tries, he’s never going to enjoy cooking. It’s a chore he does until he can replicate meals again. Last he checked, sufficient energy production for personal replication is still months away, unfortunately.

“Good evening,” says Annalise Loutner. She lives in the next building over from his and frequents the rec center for basketball games. Julian has spoken with her a few times, and finds her pleasant in a generic fashion. 

“Hello.”

“How are you?”

He’s anxious, to be honest. This morning before leaving for the hospital he finally sent Worf a message asking for permission to publish his protocol for a Trill-Klingon baby, and is on edge waiting for the reply. Not just for the answer itself, though that’s admittedly the larger part of it. Ezri, who thinks it’s a great idea, said Worf will say no if he does what he wants and yes if he does what Jadzia would have wanted. (Having passed on Worf’s comm code, Ezri recused herself from further involvement, but Julian is relieved to have her approval.)

Julian knows he’s not always very good at considering people’s emotions, so he gave this idea careful thought. The last thing he wants to do is cause Worf more pain. Therefore, he took pains to stress in his letter that, one, he would like to publish this as a tribute to Jadzia, and two, he will not move forward without Worf’s permission, nor will he ask a second time.

Not inclined to discuss any of it with Annalise, he says, “Fine, thanks. You?”

“I’m doing very well. We’re seeing signs that the walnut trees are recovering better than expected.”

“That is good news,” Julian says, even though those are his least favorite nut after Bajoran pral nuts.

Annalise pauses for a second instead of stepping up to place her order. They’re the only two in the immediate vicinity now. “Would you like to have dinner?”

Julian tries to be gentle. He has plenty of experience being on the other end of rejection, some of it well-deserved. (At least he learned from his mistakes. With Elim he was fully prepared to respect a firm no.) “I’m in a relationship, actually.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“You couldn’t have,” he says, and lets her escape to put in her order with dignity.

* * *

It’s no surprise the following evening when Kara shows up and says, “Three people asked me who you’re dating. It’s already getting old.”

“Don’t worry,” Julian tells her. “Our new bed is coming tomorrow. I think people will figure us out when we replace the two single beds with one large.”

Two beds pushed together work fine, more or less, for sleeping. They tend to move apart inconveniently during sex. Judging by Kara’s grin, the problem is self-evident.

“Good,” she says. “I’m not cut out for this secrecy business.”

Elim, who’s gotten better at handling Kara’s habit of dropping by without notice, chooses this moment to enter the conversation. “This was never a secret. We have not hidden our relationship.”

“To be fair,” says Julian, “I don’t think anyone around here realizes that arguing is Cardassian flirting.”

“It is?” asks Kara. “That explains a lot. Especially the bickering like an old married couple vibes.”

“I’m sorry for making you keep our relationship a secret,” says Julian. “That was never my intention.”

Kara shrugs. “It wasn’t a problem until today, and it doesn’t sound like it’ll be a problem much longer. It’s hard to interpret a single large bed as anything other than ‘we’re sleeping together.’”

“I assume you’re referring to both the literal and euphemistic meaning,” says Elim.

“Actually, I was focusing on the euphemism.”

“I see.”

Julian thinks now is an excellent time to change the subject for Elim’s sake. “There’s a ski resort on VIII,” he says.

“Oh right, I’d forgotten. Do they offer lessons?” Kara asks. Subject successfully changed.

“Yes.”

Last week he and Kara discovered neither of them has ever been skiing. Julian thinks it’s at least worth trying, so he looked into options. Vadari VIII is such a sparsely populated moon that the Breen only attacked the main settlement and left the rest alone, therefore the ski resort is unharmed and operational.

“Shall I book us lessons?” he asks.

“Yes, please. Any weekend works.”

Kara teaches social studies at the secondary school, so her schedule is more predictable than Julian’s. Whenever he makes plans, they’re contingent on a lack of medical emergency. It’s a professional hazard he accepts, but it does inconvenience people with whom he arranges to get together. On the station it never seemed to matter – in Starfleet, everyone’s plans are contingent on lack of emergency – but here schedules aren’t as prone to disruption outside medical staff.

“Will Lutro be interested?”

Kara’s eyes cross for a moment, a sign she’s concentrating hard on her imzadi bond. Must be close to the limits of her range, then. “Sure, he’s up for it. What about you, Garak?”

Elim skips the dramatic reaction this time. “No, thank you. I don’t care for the cold.”

“That’s him expressing appreciation for your discretion by telling you something about himself,” translates Julian.

Elim looks at him reproachfully. “Really, Julian, I’m sure Ms. Whitsell could’ve figured that out for herself.”

“No, I’m happy for the explanation. And it’s Kara.”

“First names are quite intimate in Cardassian culture,” Elim explains, in case it hadn’t been clear.

“So Julian has told me. But I’m not Cardassian. I am perfectly willing to call you the name you prefer me to use, and I’m asking you for the same courtesy.”

“She has a point,” says Julian. An eminently reasonable point, in fact. Why didn’t he think of that years ago?

Probably because he wanted to know, if and when Garak ever called him Julian, that it meant something. This worked out in the end. 

“I will consider it,” Elim says, which is practically a concession. One thing about him it took Julian an embarrassingly long time to suss out is, though he’ll never admit it, he admires people who stand up to the force of his personality.

“It’s eminently reasonable,” replies Kara. “So, no skiing for you? I might make a fool out of myself, but what’s life without risking falling face-first into snow?”

“Sensible,” counters Elim.

“It’ll be fun,” says Julian.

Elim settles for expressing continued disagreement with his eyeridges. Kara, meanwhile, goes back to the earlier subject of conversation. “Are you bracing yourselves for the gossip about your relationship? Because you’re still doing a bad job of being uninteresting.”

“I’ve given up on that endeavor.” It was a consistent failure, so why bother? “I’m going to be myself, and others can gossip as they will.”

“Good,” says Kara. “I like you interesting.”

Something warm unfurls in Julian’s chest at her words.

* * *

Julian had an excellent day yesterday. First, he received Worf’s permission to publish his paper “because Jadzia would have wanted you to. Are you allowed to make it clear this is in her honor?” (Julian wrote back his heartfelt thanks and confirmation that he already planned to dedicate his work to Jadzia’s memory.)

Then the new bed arrived. It’s much nicer than pushing two single beds together, and they got a good start on breaking it in last night.

He’s therefore in an excellent mood as he strides into the staff lounge of the hospital.

“So, you and Garak, hmm?”

It took all of three seconds for the subject to come up. Julian answers because the man asking is Siv Traala, a fellow doctor who’s becoming a friend as well as a colleague. “Yes. Gossip is moving at warp 9 as usual, I see.”

“I’ve always assumed that was a universal constant. Except maybe on Vulcan.”

Julian grabs his clean scrubs and starts to change. He’s finally used to not wearing a Starfleet uniform – most of the time, at least. “I’m sure there are a few other places more or less free of it, but this isn’t one of them.”

Siv smiles. “You look happy. I’m glad, and…”

“Yes?” prompts Julian.

“I’m just going to be blunt and ask you to forgive me if I’ve overstepped. I really don’t know how humans manage, dancing around subjects the way you do. There are people who have unkind opinions. They’re coming from a place of fear, and I hope you don’t give them too much weight.”

Betazoid forthrightness can be a bit much, sometimes, in the way it strips away pretenses and thus protections. In this case, Julian doesn’t mind. “Believe me, I have plenty of experience at that.”

It’s not that Julian is immune to the hurt of disapproval. He is simply unwilling to change to make other people happy.

He was changed once to make his parents happy, and that was enough for a dozen lifetimes.

Besides, he’s heard people talk about him. DS9 had more background noise, so it was easier to ignore hushed conversations about him there.

There are plenty of people who don’t care about his genetic status in the least. There are also some with reservations which pain him and yet he isn’t able to fault.

_Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to have another doctor, but are we sure he’s trustworthy?_

_… out of Starfleet, which could just be a technicality, I guess. Still, it makes you wonder._

_I guess you wouldn’t study medicine and then move here if you wanted to take over the quadrant._

So if people want to whisper about his relationship, Julian can’t stop them, but he will keep right on going as he is, with Elim.

“That doesn’t sound like a good thing,” says Siv. “None of my business, I imagine. Personally, I think it’s good to see love and happiness. There’s been enough pain and suffering for all of us.”

“There has,” Julian agrees.

Others can say what they like. Julian has this chance at happiness, and he’s embracing it wholeheartedly.

It still astounds him sometimes, really, that Elim ever let him in at all. Rather belatedly, Julian has realized all the little ways – and a few notable larger instances – Elim has made himself vulnerable over the years, which speaks volumes from a man who was conditioned to be pathologically afraid of vulnerability. From him, this means everything.

So that evening, when Elim crafts a careful statement designed to make sure Julian is handling the gossip well, there’s no need to gloss over his hurt. Julian knows the value of what he has with Elim, and everyone else can stuff it, as far as he’s concerned.

They spend another evening breaking in the new bed.


End file.
